


A World Alone

by heliotropic



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Introspection, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heliotropic/pseuds/heliotropic
Summary: Donna reflects on her relationship with Josh over the course of five nights in a hotel room.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 21
Kudos: 67





	A World Alone

**Author's Note:**

> There will never be enough vacation fic. Any similarities to any other work is unintentional.

1.

When they reach their hotel room, the first thing Donna does is demand that they shower - separately. It’s late, and the only thing she wants to do is sleep. After the year they’ve had, she's certain that falling asleep won’t be an issue for either of them. He offers to go first, since he’s pretty low maintenance when it comes to things like this. Donna uses the time to unpack her luggage as much as she can, digging around to find her night creams and serums that keep her looking less undead than Josh.

Despite his grand gesture, and her leap of faith, Donna still feels an awkwardness between them that she doesn’t remember being there before. She can’t help but consider the irony of it, that after all this time the only thing they know how to do is touch each other, when before every conversation between them had felt like a pas de deux, each of them gracefully relying on the other in a perfectly choreographed motion, synchronized but barely touching.

Their banter had always been a mask, carefully concealing whatever thought was lurking beneath the surface at that moment in time. Like when she said “I wouldn’t stop for red lights,” she actually meant “there is no one more important to me than you are,” and when she said “I loathe you,” she actually meant “I would do whatever you asked of me, and I hate myself for it.” 

_(Sometimes, she wonders if when he said “you have terrible taste in men,” he actually meant “you should be with me,” and if when he said “you should be with me,” he actually meant “you’ve left a hole in my life that I don’t know how to fill.”)_

Lately, it feels like it’s all she can do to have a carefully prepared speech for him - about their relationship, about her career, and about whatever it is that they are to each other. And he just sits there in stunned silence, unsure of himself in a way that he’s never been before. It’s like they don't know how they can be their old selves without inadvertently hitting some sore spot, now that they’ve both hurt each other for real. Donna is determined to change that this week, if she can. They’ve always been sensitive to each other’s moods, as much as Josh would never admit it, and she feels a sense of guilt that she’s the one who made them this way. She returned from Gaza broken and tired and scared to lean on Josh in any way lest she break him too. Then she left, and although she can’t bring herself to regret that part, she does regret the way it’s made them.

Josh emerges from the bathroom clad only in a pair of boxers, and Donna finds herself drawn to him, aware of the absurdity of clinging to him every time he’s in sight, yet refusing to stop doing so. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, still warm and damp from the shower. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood.

“You smell good,” she mumbles into his skin, lips brushing against him. 

“Thanks, I’m not sure I can take any credit though.” He wraps his arms around her and she thinks it’s pathetic really, how neither of them wants to let go. She closes her eyes and they sway in their silent embrace, their new normal. 

She sighs. “Let me get in the shower and then we can sleep for as long as we want. I’ve never been so relieved to not have a wake up call.” She tugs herself out of his embrace with one last kiss to his shoulder, and shuts the bathroom door behind her. 

When she reemerges, Josh is perched on the far side of the bed, leafing through one of the books she had bought at the airport. He’s wearing a shirt now, but he still looks so out of place here, free of his Blackberry, soft and freshly showered. Donna rounds the bed to sit on his lap, just because she can.

“Enjoying yourself?”

He’s closed the book before she’s even fully settled, immediately putting it aside so he can grab at her waist. “More now that you’re here,” he says. 

She pushes him down so that his back is flat against the bed and maneuvers herself on top of him, head on his chest so she can listen to his heartbeat. She slides one hand under his shirt and traces along his side, feeling him twitch every time she brushes against a sensitive spot. He doesn’t protest, just lays there with one hand in her hair until she decides that it’s probably a little weird and definitely a little uncomfortable. She gets up and heads back to pull up the sheets on the other side of the bed, since he’s apparently declared that side his own.

“Get the light over there, will you?” She’s already sliding under the covers, determined to sleep while she can still feel the tug of exhaustion, wary of the second wind that could come at 2 AM and keep her up for the rest of the night. Josh turns off the light and crawls into bed from his side. They meet in the middle, tangle their legs together, and fall asleep.

  
  


2.

It had been an easy day, with both of them recovering from the fatigue of a cross-country flight and getting a late start after they had gotten inevitably sidetracked upon waking up spooned against each other. Donna had anticipated this and determined that their time would largely be spent in search of food and nothing else. She dragged him to all the local spots that she had researched online, taking the liberty of ordering for them both with the explanation that she’d end up eating his food either way.

The pragmatist in Donna almost feels guilty for spending so much time in bed after all the years of teasing Josh about their fated Hawaii trip. She rationalizes it by saying that the only real expense they have is this hotel room, so they might as well make good use of it. When they’re lying in bed together, still and intertwined, she can hear waves crashing against the shore. She closes her eyes and pictures them floating in the ocean. In the dark, she can pretend they haven’t changed at all.

3.

Despite her best attempts at sun protection, Donna is pink by midday, courtesy of their morning hike. They’ve been back at the hotel for hours, mostly just lying in bed and watching TV, interrupted by occasional bouts of fondling, and when their bodies allow, actual sex. They’d gone out for dinner but quickly returned, both understanding the merits of time where they can touch each other as much as they’d like without the specter of propriety hanging over their heads. At this point, Donna is certain that they’ve had more sex in hotel rooms than in their own homes. There is something to be said for clean sheets and not having to make your own bed that makes it all the more enjoyable. They’re spending a lot of time in the dark together, or in the dim light of the room with the blackout curtains drawn. If she’s honest, it’s easier to pretend it’s just the two of them, with no one else to witness their relationship and offer judgement. So far, they’ve cocooned themselves in the pretense of secrecy, but she’s certain that the illusion won’t last when they return to the real world. Imagining what kind of questions they’ll be asked when they get back gives her an uncomfortable feeling in her gut, so she carefully avoids thinking about it at all. She hasn’t gotten over the instinctive need to lie whenever someone asks about Josh. She isn’t sure how much of it is remnant from years of lying to herself.

Josh interrupts her thoughts by pulling her on top of him and holding her tight. She kisses him, and they don’t speak.

4.

Neither of them felt like showing much skin at the beach that day, looking like (in her mind, as much as she tried to suppress the thought) Frankenstein and his bride. In public, it felt like a reminder of all the reasons they had waited this long, a timeline drawn on their skin showing everyone where they had gone wrong. Even now, the glances of strangers trigger years of shame and paranoia that they are still getting over: the feeling that they shouldn’t be so close, that they would tarnish the presidency, that what they’re doing is wrong.

It’s different when they’re alone, their matching scars a testament to everything they’ve been through together. At night, when they line their bodies up against one another, every doubt and insecurity fades away, quiet but for the sound of their breathing. 

They’ve gotten really good at this, she thinks. It helps that they can’t keep their hands off each other after years of holding back from all but casual contact. Tonight, she begs him to mark her while he can, and returns the favor by biting his shoulders and putting her mouth anywhere she can reach. She's already addicted to the feel of him, finds it invading her thoughts at random moments throughout the day. Is that why they can't seem to talk anymore? Maybe the sex has addled their brains. Maybe there’s nothing left to say.

5.

It’s their last night in Hawaii, and they’re mostly packed (Donna has carefully laid out her outfit for the airport tomorrow and neatly packed everything else away. Josh has thrown all his clothing on top of his suitcase, which is as much as she’d expect from him at this point anyway). It’s been an amazing week, and Donna is hesitant to disturb the slice of paradise that they’ve made for themselves. But she also knows that if she doesn’t ask now, there might never be another chance, not when they’re both feeling so weightless and unburdened by the challenge of the years to come.

She sits up in bed, shifting to get a better look at him. 

“Do you ever feel like… something is different?”

Josh turns his head, assessing. “A lot of things are different. This is different.” He gestures vaguely between them, or maybe at the bed.

“No, I know that. It’s just... It feels different. Than how we used to be.”

Josh looks at her in confusion, brow furrowing. “How we used to be? Like when I was your boss and you were my assistant and I was doing everything in my power to convince myself I was fine with that?”

Donna blushes at this, thrown off guard to hear him say it, even if she’s always known, deep down.

“It’s just… you’ve been quiet lately. Before, I couldn’t get you to shut up.”

Josh looks relieved when she says it, and Donna immediately feels guilty for bringing it up in the first place.

“Yeah. I mean... I guess I feel like I’ve spent most of my life yelling at people who wouldn’t listen to me. When I’m with you… I don’t even have to say anything and I know that you’ll hear me.”

Donna swears she feels a physical pain in her chest when he says this. She always thought she really got Josh, knew all his ins and outs. But she never knew this about him. His past relationships have all been loud and brash, the talking (the debating, the fighting) as much foreplay as the romance.

“Okay. But I can’t read your mind. So just… remember I’m here. And I’ll listen, if you have anything to say.”

Josh looks startled for a moment, as if he hadn’t considered that they might not be on the same page. His eyes dart around the room before he finally clears his throat.

“You should move in with me. When we get back to DC.” Donna feels incredibly giddy and filled with dread, all at once.

“Move in… with you?” 

“Yeah, like cohabitating. I hear it’s something that people do. People who… you know.” 

Donna stares at him. She prods him, because she feels like she can. “No, I don’t know.”

“You were right, Donna. When you said I tend to fall into women sideways. Sometimes I feel like this has been completely out of my control, and the only reason we’re here now is because of some grand design beyond my understanding. But I don’t want it to be that way. I want to grab on and never let you go. Because this is it for me, Donna. I don’t want to just keep running forward and hope that I bump into you along the way. I want you there, with me. For the next four years, and then the next four, and then for however many years we have after that.”

Donna finds that she’s grinning irrepressibly. Leave it to him to make a romantic declaration using presidential terms as a measure of time. She grabs his hand from where he’s been fiddling with the bedspread, desperate to anchor herself to him. “Okay. I’d like that”

“Yeah?” Josh looks so nervous, and she’s struck with the realization that perhaps they’ve finally figured it out.

“Yeah.” 

“And, you know. I - uh” Josh stops again, looking down at their now intertwined hands, and then back up, sheepish.

“You what?” Donna hasn’t stopped smiling, and she thinks she never wants to forget this moment.

“I love you.” It’s entirely possible Josh is looking at her ear as he says this. She leans over to kiss him, needing to return his show of vulnerability. When they separate for air, her eyes meet his.

“I love you too.” 

Maybe they don’t need words anymore. Sometimes it’s still nice to hear them.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was partly inspired by the fact that Josh and Donna don't say a single word to each other on screen after they leave for their vacation. Josh definitely loses the ability to speak eloquently around Donna in S7, so this is my way of addressing that.
> 
> Title from A World Alone by Lorde


End file.
